” “Well?” Anna remarked calmly. Leonardo had not taught her to do so. It seemed incredible that she and her aunt were, indeed, creatures of the same blood, only by a birth or so different beings, and part of that same broad interlacing stream of human life that has invented the fauns and nymphs, Astarte, Aphrodite, Freya, and all the twining beauty of the gods. Kneebone, who had drained his glass to the restoration of the house of Stuart, and the downfall of the house of Hanover, more frequently than was consistent with prudence, consented; and the trio set out for Wych Street, where they arrived in the jolliest humour possible. ‘Well, she’d better learn fast if she wants any truck with me. And now, my love," she added, with a relenting look, "I'm content to make up our quarrel.
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